


Gun's 'N Roses : Drabbles

by PAPERSK1N



Series: Guns 'N Roses [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Fluff, GTA AU, Guns N' Roses - Freeform, Multi, Prompt Fic, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, Tag's will be added as i post more, Violence, very homo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3773122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Drabbles existing in the Gun's 'N Roses universe.</p><p>Feel free to comment, give kudos or leave a promtp of something you would like to see, headcannons etc (featuring the pairings tagged) and I'll try to get round to them!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting Back To It

**Author's Note:**

> Getting Back To It:-
> 
> Original Prompt: Mela
> 
> Maybe it would be nice to know what happened to Ryan after this? I wouldn't want him to fall into old patterns because he has been doing better, but he doesn't sound as good as he says he is. So is it ok to ask for a little bit of Raywood hurt/comfort? Or just seeing how Ryan is coping with the isolation and everything after he's back?

**Getting Back To It**

 

It had been exactly a week since Ryan had brought Gavin back home. The Fake AH Crew hadn’t ventured far out of 636 since, as they all slowly got used to being a complete team again.

It had been exactly a week, and Ray was sitting upstairs in his bedroom by his favourite window, staring at Ryan with a perplexed expression.

Ryan was by far the most attentive of the group at the worst of times, so it was unnerving Ray that the usually masked man hadn’t yet noticed he was staring.

Ryan was sat on the bed in just his underwear and a t-shirt, a lit cigarette between his fingers. However, he hadn’t taken a pull in several minutes, and the ash was building up on the end, dangerously close to falling onto the bed. Ryan himself hadn’t noticed, and was just staring into nothing, eyes low.

“Ryan, are you okay?” Ray asked, breaking the silence and catching Ryan’s attention. He actually flinched, Ray’s question taking him by surprise. The jolt his body made had the ash falling from the end of his cigarette onto the bed. Ryan sighed, dusting it off.

“I’m fine.” He said, “Why do you ask?”

Ray let his joint rest in the ashtray on the window sill, and walked over to the bed, climbing on top of Ryan so he sat with a knee on either side of Ryan’s hips.

“You’ve been… awfully quiet, recently.” Ray said. Ryan shrugged.

“I’m always quiet.” He replied. Ray scoffed.

“When we’re out on a heist? Sure. In unfamiliar company? Absolutely, you love to give off the silent-murderer vibe.” He said with a smirk, right hand settling on Ryan’s cheek, pulling his face slightly so he was forced to look at Ray. “But not with me you're not. So what’s up?”

Ryan sighed. It was never difficult for Ray to get the exact information out of Ryan at the exact moment he wanted it. To others, Ryan was completely unreadable, but all Ray had to do was look at him a certain way, or touch him gently on his face or his shoulder, and all he wanted to do was spill his secrets, reciting them like verses of the bible.

It was a talent, really.

“Nothing.” Ryan lied, determined not to let Ray get the better of him, as he usually did. Ray often had enough to worry about himself, and every time Ryan spilled his guts, he felt like he was leaving another, heavier burden on Ray’s shoulders.

“Ryan.” Was all Ray had to say, tilting his head to give Ryan a look. “Don’t give me that bullshit. What’s up?”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, locking eyes with Ray. He was fighting, inside, to keep quiet, but Ray was _looking_ at him and he had that lazy smirk on his face that Ryan couldn’t help but love, so with a heavy sigh, he spoke.

“I dunno.” He said with a shrug. “It’s just been… hard, coming back after being away for so long. Assimilating back into the group after being more or less completely alones been… hard.”

“Oh.” Ray said, sitting up slightly. His lazy smile fell from his face, and his hand slipped down Ryan’s, settling on his arm. “Do… do you want like, time? By yourself?”

Ryan couldn’t help but smile at that, knowing the lengths that Ray would go to make him happy. He shook his head, allowing one hand to rest on Ray’s small thigh, thumb tracing delicate circles. “No.” he said. “Usually being alone, for me, is fine but… I haven’t done it since we… you know, got together and stuff. I missed you.” he admitted. “It’s just… the getting used to being here, with you again.”

“Oh, right.” Ray nodded, shifting slightly so he could lean into Ryan’s gentle touch. He smiled as Ryan gave his thigh a small squeeze, and let his arms drape around Ryan’s shoulders, wrists crossing behind his neck. “Still, it might be good if maybe you and Gavin spend some time together, alone. Like, familiarity and shit, I guess.” He said with a shrug.

Ryan paused, thinking it over. “Yeah, maybe.” He said.

“Promise me you’ll at least think about it?” Ray asked. Ryan smiled.

“Yes, I promise.” He tilted his head up after he spoke, placing a soft, chaste kiss on Ray’s lips. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?” he asked.

Ray couldn’t help but grin. “Yes. But tell me again, to make up for all the times you didn't?”

Ryan’s smile stretched, matching Ray’s own. “I love you.” he said, resting his forehead against Ray’s. “So much.”

“I love you too.” Came Ray’s reply, before he once again connected their lips, sealing the deal.


	2. Fight To Make Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight To Make Up:-
> 
> Original Prompt: Xansz
> 
> [...] so maybe can we have Ray and Ryan, their first major fight and getting back together moment?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Summary: Ryan and Ray are stubborn and haven't yet learnt that they need to change. Set before GNR2, post GNR1 finale.

** Fight To Make Up **

Nights with fitful sleep and resentful nightmares were hardly uncommon to Ryan. If anything, he had gotten used to them, having suffered with them for so many years.

But now, he shared a bed with someone else, and no matter how comforting Ray’s presence was at the best of times, every night as the clock ticked over to around two AM, the night terrors would begin.

Sometimes, he couldn’t even remember what he was dreaming about, but he’d wake up, covered in sweat with tears stinging his eyes and his throat hoarse from screaming or his breaths shallow from panting.

Ray was a light sleeper, ears finely tuned as a sniper to always sense the threat when his eyes were focused elsewhere, so he always woke up around the same time Ryan’s nightmares began. Ray was grumpy in the mornings, but in the middle of the night, when Ryan woke up in a cold sweat, he was more than a relief.

He didn't even need to do much in ways of comforting Ryan. It was enough for Ray to just roll over and lay on Ryan’s chest, gently stroking across Ryan’s abdomen with his slim fingers, and Ryan would fall back into _rest_.

It wasn’t really _sleep_ , it never was, for Ryan. After a nightmare, the rest of the night he would lay with his eyes closed, but really, he would be awake. And that was enough.

They had been away from the crew for several weeks when it happened for the first time. Ryan was jerked out of his dream by Ray, shaking him because Ryan had a tight grasp of his wrist, and was twisting his arm.

Ryan apologised, a thousand times, covering Ray in small kisses and cuddling him. Ray forgave him, because it wasn’t a big deal and he’d had worse and he knew how badly Ryan suffered.

But then it kept happening. Again and again and again and again.

It started with little things, a wrist grabbed in the night, or arms, pushing Ray away from him, but eventually, over the course of a few weeks it progressed. Lashing out with his arms, hitting in his sleep.

Ray’s small body was covered in shallow bruises, but still, he insisted he was okay.

“Seriously, Ryan, I came from an abusive home. I can take a little rough sleeping.” He joked, but it didn't stop Ryan from feeling guilty.

He slept less and less because he was constantly worried that he was going to hurt Ray, and it began to show. He was sluggish on jobs, his eyes were shielded by dark circles. He barely spoke, if it wasn’t to Ray, and he barely ate except for when Ray forced him to.

Ray was worried, but at first he didn't know what exactly to do. He wanted to help, but Ryan didn't like authority and he had never liked being told what to do.

Things got at their worse one particular night, when Ray forced Ryan to come to bed with him, if not to sleep than to simply lay down, and reluctantly, Ryan agreed. But then, the moment his head had hit the pillow he was encased in darkness, tumbling into the sleep he had been so desperately trying to fight for so long.

 _Just a short nap_ he said to himself. _Just thirty minutes. Then I'll get up, and I’ll watch TV on the couch until sunrise._

He was eventually awoken by Ray’s choked screams and shouts of his name. Ryan’s eyes opened slowly, before he sprung backwards, after realising that he had Ray by the throat, and was pressing him into the mattress.

“Ryan!” Ray called, voice hoarse. He scrambled to sit up, looking over at Ryan who was backed up against the wall.

Ray climbed off the bed and ran over to him, but Ryan recoiled as soon as Ray’s finger touched his face.

“No, get away from me!”

“Okay.” Ray backed away a little, arms raised defensively. “Are you okay?” he croaked.

“Am _I_ okay? Ray, I just tried to fucking _strangle_ you, in my _sleep_.”

Ray waved it off, as he often did with things. “I’m fine.” He said.

“No, you’re not! I could’ve _killed you_.” Ryan was frantic, hands shaking as he held them in front of himself. “I-I need to leave.” He scrambled to stand up, bolting for the door before Ray stopped him.

“Ryan, it’s okay, I-”

“No, no it’s _not okay.”_ Ryan shouted. “It’s nowhere fucking near _okay_.”

“Ryan, you’ve gotta calm down-”

“Ray, I’ve gotta _leave_ , do you not see what just fucking happened?” he demanded. Ray sighed.

“Did I see it? Yes, Ryan, and I was fucking terrified, okay?! But I’m not letting you walk out of that door.” Ray said, stepping a little closer to Ryan. “You’re not well, Ryan, you need a fucking doctor or some meds… and I can you get you them, but you’ve _got_ to let me help you.”

If it hadn’t have been for the deep look of concern that Ray held in his dark, usually unreadable eyes, Ryan would have bolted.

The eyes were the window to the soul so Ryan let Ray take care of him for the rest of the night. In the morning, Ray spoke on the phone with a doctor, but Ryan could help feeling antsy as he stood awkwardly in the living room of their apartment. The bruises on Ray’s neck were blooming into dark colours, and his fingers itched in a way that wasn’t good, but wasn’t completely _bad_ as he thought of them around his boyfriends throat.

Ray got off the phone, turning around to look at Ryan. He glared at him.

“Stop it.” He said.

“Stop what?” Ryan asked. Ray sighed.

“I know you, remember? You’re thinking of leaving. You're a danger to me, right? So you should just go? Is that it?” he asked. Ryan nodded, and Ray rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Ryan, for fucks _sake_ \- you _don’t_ get to decide if I fucking love you or not. It’s not your decision, if I want to stay with you, and help you. It’s _mine_.”

“But Ray-”

“-No Ryan, you _always_ do this. You’re always trying to control every little thing, and sometimes, you need to understand that you can't control everything!”

Ryan stiffened, eyes narrowing as he looked at Ray. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when Ray got off the phone, but it sure as hell wasn’t a lecture.

“What?” he asked, stunned and confused.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about.” Ray said. He saw Ryan’s blank look, and sighed, before elaborating.

“Ryan, I swear it’s like every day, you’re looking for a new reason to walk out on me. If you really don’t want to be with me, then just fucking say, alright? Because this ‘I’m no good for you’ shit is getting old.” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Ryan was quiet for a moment taking Ray’s words in. he kept his arms fixed on Ray, who couldn’t look up from the floor, arms crossed tightly where he stood leaning against the isle in the open kitchenette.

“So I’m too _controlling_?” Ryan asked.

“Yes.” Ray mumbled. “You always think you can tell me what's best for me. I know you mean well but… I can make my own fucking decisions, alright?”

“Oh what, like when you decided to blow that armoured car up with a rocket launcher when you were only standing three feet away from it, and cops were _everywhere?_ And I had to save your burnt fucking body! Was that one of your glorious, independent decisions?” Ryan demanded. He was slowly moving from feeling annoyance to feeling anger, and took a few slow, controlling breaths, knowing that if he really got _angry_ , he’d end up doing something that he regretted.

“Oh, that’s fucking different.”

“No it isn’t.” Ryan said, voice raising. “And you know what, whilst we’re on the subject of fucking _impurities,_ you’re… you’re too fucking _chill._ ”

“What the fuck that’s supposed to mean?”

“You’re too _relaxed_. Half the time it’s an act, and I know you’re just trying to hide your fucking emotions but it doesn’t work, alright? You just come across as an _asshole_ , who doesn’t give a shit about anyone, or anything.”

“Oh, fuck off Ryan. If we’re being petty, you’re fucking insensitive!”

“ _You're_ fucking _insensitive_ too, asshole!” Ryan shouted. “And you can be reckless, too! I give you my input because I want to fucking keep you safe, don’t you understand that?”

“Ryan you’re my _boyfriend_ , not my fucking bodyguard. I survived alone before I met you, and I'll fucking survive if you leave. I can take care of myself.” Ray said, adamantly. Ryan sighed.

“I’m not saying you can't, but-”

“-And do you know what, Ryan,” Ray cut him off, “you’re the fucking reckless one! Every heist, every job, you’re always running off into danger without a second thought!” Ray yelled, small fists clenching at his sides. “One day, you're gonna get fucking _killed_.”

They were both silent after that, for a moment. Both had worked themselves up as their voices raised, and were panting where they were sat, fists clenched and teeth gritted. Ray really wanted to go for Ryan, and Ryan was fighting the urge to press more bruises into Ray’s throat.

But they restrained themselves, as you always did for the one you loved.

“I don’t want that to happen, Ryan.” Ray said, quietly. “I don’t want to fucking find you dead in a fucking alleyway, or laid on the pavement in front of a cop car, alright? I couldn’t fucking live with myself if you got yourself killed.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.” Ryan said, sniffing as he leant back against the cool wall. “It’d be mine. I make reckless decisions. I’m impulsive and I’m controlling.” He admitted, pulling his knees up to his chest and resting his head on them. “It isn’t your fault Ray. If I do something stupid, it’ll never be your fault.”

Ray sighed shakily, and stood up, walking over to where Ryan was stood against the wall. He stood beside him, leaning his own head against the wall. The two were close, but did not touch.

“I'll still feel guilty.” Ray said, looking down at the ground.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I will. Because I love you, and shit.” Ray shrugged. Ryan smiled at that, turning his head so he could look at Ray, who kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

“So you do still love me then?” he asked with a small smile. A smirk grew on Ray’s face, and he nodded.

“’Course I do.” he said, voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

“I love you too.” Ryan said. “Even if you were kind of mean and you do deserve much better.”

“Was I mean?” Ray asked, looking up. Ryan nodded, but smiled. “Sorry.” Ray grinned. “You just pissed me off, that’s all.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Forgiven.”

There was another beat of silence.

“We can't keep doing this.” Ray said.

“Doing what?” Ryan asked. Ray shrugged.

“All this… holding shit in. you thinking you're not good enough, me holding myself responsible for everything you do. It probably isn’t good for our sanity.” He laughed.

“Please, we both lost our sanity a long time ago.” Ryan pointed out. Ray giggled.

“True.” He agreed. After a pause, he asked, “Still, could we not… like, fight and shit? I think this was our first real argument, and it fucking _sucked_.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to doing this again.” Ryan said. “How do normal couples do it so often? I remember my parents used to argue _all_ the time.”

“Ryan, your parents were _divorced_.”

“That may have played some part in it.”

Ray laughed. “Whatever,” he said, shaking his head “How about this, next time we start to fight, we just… don’t fight?”

Ryan smiled. “Alright.” He said. “I think I can do that. Not sure if it’ll resolve much, thought.”

“Eh, fuck that.” Ray shrugged. “Are you gonna stop thinking you're a danger to me?” he asked.

“Nope.” Ryan shook his head. “Are you gonna stop being insensitive, and not think things through?”

“Absolutely not! Are you going to go to the doctor?”

“Fuck no.”

“I didn't think you would.” Ray rolled his eyes, but it was in an affectionate way.

“Then there,” Ryan smiled. “Agree to disagree. Best way to do it.”

“Shake on it?” Ray asked, extending his hand. After beat, Ryan took Ray’s hand in his. But he didn't shake it, instead, choosing to pull Ray into him, wrapping his arms around Ray’s shoulders.

Ray hugged him back, resting his head at Ryan’s shoulder, near his neck. “Promise we’ll never, ever fucking argue again?” he asked. Ryan smiled.

“You know me, Ray.” He said. “I never make promises that I can't keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated, and feel free to leave a prompt of something you'd like to see below!


	3. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Original Prompt from Jam:
> 
> [...] I'd also love to see either Gavin and Michael on their first date post Gavin's rehab.

The question, at first, takes Michael completely by surprise.

They’re sitting on their bed, eating Chinese takeout that Geoff so kindly ordered for them (and paid for, no matter how much they insisted he didn't need to), watching a shitty Lifetime movie, when Gavin turns to him, and asks,

“Michael, can I take you on a date?”

Michael frowns, and turns to look at Gavin. The Brit is sitting there with that same dopey grin on his face that he always used to wear, staring at Michael with a hopeful sparkle in his eye.

“Take me on a date?” Michael asks. Gavin nods. “Why?”

“Why not, you donut? We’re meant to be starting over, right? So shouldn’t I take you out, or something?”

Michael smiles. “Gav, you’ve been back for weeks now. Things are _totally_ back to normal.”

This isn’t entirely true. All crew based business hasn’t gone anywhere near Michael or Gavin for weeks, because everyone else is too afraid that they ‘aren’t ready’. Ryan watches Gavin with cautious eyes at all time, like a cat watching a bird and Geoff stares at Michael worriedly when he thinks he can’t see him, like he’s made of glass and is about to shatter any second.

And they do the same with each other. They sleep in the same bed, but they barely touch. They haven’t done anything anywhere near _sexual_ , because Michael’s afraid that Gavin will leave again and Gavin’s afraid that it won't be enough. Things are nowhere near _normal_ , but they’re okay.

“Please?” Gavin asks. “Just let me take you to dinner?”

Michael let’s his small smile grow into a grin. “Fine, dipshit.” He eventually relents. “You can take me on a fucking date. I don’t know what difference it’ll make though.”

“Great!” Gavin grins. He leans forwards and kisses Michael softly on the cheek, before climbing off of the bed. Michael frowns.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I'll sleep upstairs. Not often you wake up next to someone taking you on your first date, you dunce!”

Michael doesn’t argue, so Gavin heads to the upper level of the annex they live in. When Gavin was gone, Michael found it hard to get more than a few hours a night alone in the bed, but thankfully, the thought of Gavin only being a ceiling away is reassuring, and he gets his usual six hours.

In the morning, Gavin is nowhere to be seen. Michael panics, first, running out of the annex and down the garden towards the house, stopping abruptly when he sees Gavin inside, fully dressed and talking animatedly to Geoff, a giant bouquet of flowers in his hand.

He catches Michael’s eye through the glass doors, and beckons him over, grinning.

Michael is still in his boxers and a t-shirt, hair everywhere and gaze squinted without his glasses, but he walks in, greeting everyone before Gavin thrusts the flowers in his face.

“What the fuck?”

“For you, Michael. We’re going on a date, remember!”

The flowers are purple and white, Michael couldn’t name them if he tried, but they smell nice enough, so he smiles. “Thanks Gav,” he mumbles. “But can I at least eat breakfast first, and get dressed?”

Gavin huffs, but grins. “You can get dressed, but don’t eat a thing! We’re going out in one hour!”

* * *

 

Michael gets dressed, pulling his brown leather jacket out of the back of the wardrobe, where it had been hanging since the Joel Heyman incident. He hadn’t worn it since, but with a strange surge of courage, he pulled it on.

He even goes to the effort of putting contact lenses in, instead of his glasses. The things he does for Gavin.

Gavin grins and makes a small, happy noise when Michael steps back into the house, and takes his hand in his. “Come on then, boi. Later everyone!”

Geoff and Jack just watch with unashamed grins as Gavin pulls Michael out of the house.

“Where’s Ryan and Ray?” Michael asks, as they make their way out of the house and towards the garage.

“Job.” Gavin shrugs. “They left last night. Geoff says they won't be back for a couple of days.”

“Oh. Well, I'll text Ray anyway, tell him we’re going out.” Michael says, as Gavin pulls his crash helmet on, tossing the second one to Michael.

“Ooh, Gavvy, riding me on your _bike_.” He teases, with a harsh laugh. Gavin just grins, and tells him to shut up before pulling his visor down. Michael fires a quick text off to Ray, before Gavin revs the bike, and they speed off, away from the house and away from the main city.

* * *

 

_From: Michael_

_Gavin’s taking me out on a date. Sounds stupid, but I think things are actually starting to feel sort of normal again. Which is the gayest thing ever. Sorry._

_Also, apparently you and Ryan are on a job? Good luck, call if you need anything!_

Ray shows the text to Ryan, who grins like a proud fucking parent, before thrusting his knife through another attackers chest.

“Adorable.” Ray says.

* * *

 

“Gavin, I’m fucking starving, are we nearly there?” Michael shouts over the harsh whipping of wind by their heads. Gavin drives fast and recklessly, always has done, and they’ve almost crashed at least twice.

Before Gavin can answer, they’re swerving, avoiding yet another lamppost.

“That one bloody came out of nowhere!” Gavin yells. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Are we fucking near or not?!” he yells. “If I don’t eat soon I’m gonna fucking starve.”

“It’s right around this block, Michael, I’ve just got to find a good par- _bloody hell_! Watch where you’re going, mate!”

Michael just groans as Gavin swerves another few pedestrians, before finding a bike rack and killing the engine.

Gavin leads him up the block a little, their hands loosely linked as they walk. Gavin bounces in each step like an excited kid, and Michael grins, because it’s been a while since he’s seen Gavin look so _happy_.

“Here it is!” Gavin says, stopping outside a restaurant. Michael turns and looks.

_Ponicci’s Pizzaria. The best pie in Los Santos._

“A pizza place?” Michael asks, tone unimpressed.

“Not just any pizza place!” Gavin exclaims. “It’s a _jersey_  pizza place!”

“What?” Michael furrows his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I came here, about a month ago. When I was still… you know.” Gavin doesn’t like saying the word _addicted_ , he avoids it at all costs. He doesn’t like talking about what happened, or what he did during that time, so Michael never asks. The revelation of the pizza place is the biggest step Gavin’s taken yet. “I came in here, and made friends with the family that own it. They’re Italian, but they used to live in Jersey! It was nice, hearing people talk like you. Familiarity and that!” Gavin shrugs, leading Michael further into the restaurant.

An older woman greets them as they walk in, grinning and leaning forwards, kissing Gavin on each cheek. “Gavino. Glad to see you looking better” She says, smile wide and endearing. “And this must be Michael!”

Surprisingly, she leans forwards and kisses Michael too. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.” she says with a smile, before leading the pair to a table in the back.

“This is awesome.” Michael says, looking around at the inside of the restaurant. It looks like any pizzeria you’d find on the East Coast, but there’s just enough Jersey in there that it reminds Michael of home.

“I thought it was cool, cause like…” Gavin trails off, eyes fixed to the table. Michael reaches across, and takes Gavin’s hand in his. Gavin smiles. “Cause it’s like a mix of you and me, isn’t it? The New Jersey bit, and the Italian bit. Isn’t it?”

Michael can’t stop the grin from spreading across his face. “Yeah.” he says. “Yeah it is.”

“And… I kept coming back, because it was the closest I could get to you without actually… seeing you, you know?”

“I know.” Michael nods. “Thank you, for this, Gav. Honestly- it’s awesome.”

Gavin’s grin matches Michael’s. He practically _glows_ with happiness, and his fingers link Michael’s tighter. “I’m glad you like it.”

There’s a short pause, before Michael takes a deep breath. “I-I love you, Gav. Nothing’s changed there, you know that, right?”

“Really?” Gavin asks, voice suddenly small. Michael nods.

“Of course. You’re my boi, aren’t you?”

“I love you too, Michael.” Gavin draws Michael’s hand up to his face, kissing it softly. “I really do. And I’m so sorry, for everything. I’m a total knob, but I do really love you.”

“I forgive you.” Michael says. “Now c’mon. Let’s fucking eat, I’m starving!”

They spend the rest of the morning bickering over toppings and drinks and ice cream, sharing and stealing each other’s food. Gavin prefers thin crust and Michael likes his thick and doughy. Gavin likes the summer and Michael likes the winter. Gavin likes new movies and Michael likes the classics. Michael likes breakfast but Gavin prefers dinner. Who eats pizza at midday? They do, apparently.

They’re complete and total opposites, they always have been. Surprisingly, they make it work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave prompts here or on my tumblr! Not just GTA prompts, but any!


	4. Slight of Hand, Slip of Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked for more Joelay? This is a glimpse of what Ray and Joel's relationship was like.

_From: Joel_

_Meet my, my office. I’m taking you out today x_

* * *

 

Ray stared at the text, and couldn’t fight the dumb smile growing on his face as he read it. What was cuter than that? His gang leader boyfriend, spontaneously texting him to take him out. X’s and everything at the end.

In his few years of criminal activity, Ray had never expected his life to turn out like this. At first, Joel Heyman had been the big boss, the name without the face that everyone Ray worked for and feared. Now, Joel was the guy who'd kiss him on the forehead and take him for dinner, text him with x’s and say he was _beautiful_. Ray was only eighteen years old, but he _knew_ that Joel was the one.

Ray saved his game and shutoff his Xbox, running his hands through his curly dark hair to neaten it up, before pulling a beanie on over it. He swallowed his gum, too lazy to spit it out, and covered his lips in a thin layer of chap-stick. It was vanilla, Joel’s favourite.

Joel’s office wasn’t far from his apartment, so he chose to walk, thankful that the New York summer had been kind and he could barely feel a chill in his thin grey hoodie. The garment in question was well on its way out, but Joel had promised to buy him a purple one that he had his eye on. Joel never settled for less than the best, so Ray knew he was in good hands.

Joel’s ‘office’ was really just an apartment that he rented downtown, located right at the top floor of the plain, grey building. Joel’s gang members riddled the place, living there or hanging out in the lobby as ‘protection’. Ray and Joel would laugh at the bonehead’s shitty way of looking nonchalant as they stood, all leather and muscle, trying to casually leaf through Men’s Health Magazine.

Ray nodded at the goon who stood by the lift, who stepped aside to let Ray step in. Another perk of dating Joel was the endless respect and protection he had in a city that really, could make or break you.

The elevator was bleak and brown and creaked as it made its way up to the top floor. From there, Ray walked down the narrow hallway, the two men outside Joel’s door moving so he could walk in, unlocking the door with the key Joel had given him.

“Hey Joel, I’m he-”

Ray froze, mouth still gaping around half formed word. Joel was stood in front of his desk, gun in hand with the safety switched off, eyes dark and lips pressed into a thin line. A man was knelt on the floor, hands in the air.

“Shit, sorr-”

“It’s fine, you’re not interrupting anything.” Joel said, tone even and eyes instantly softening as they fell on Ray, who was still frozen. Joel nodded away from the door, signalling for Ray to step further into the room. The gun didn't leave his grasp as Ray walked in, closing the door behind him.

“If this is a bad time-”

There was a loud bang, and Ray’s eyes clamped shut as his body jerked. For a second, he thought Joel had shot him. He dared to open his eyes a moment later, and saw the pool of blood on the floor, next to the collapsed man. Or what was left of the man, anyway.

“Joel, what the fuck?!”

“This asshole thought he could cross me, can you believe it?” Joel asked, scratching the back of his head with the nozzle of the gun. “The nerve of some people! You work hard all your life to build up a reputation, leave behind your double crossing fucking so called fucking friends, travel all the way to New York, start building up another fucking reputation, start a gang _and_ give people jobs- and they still think they can cross you!”

Ray could feel blood, wet on his bare calf from where it had sprayed from the unnamed man’s skull. Ray couldn’t tear his eye away from the body, eyes wide in horror. He wondered if the man had a family.

Joel leant against his desk and lit up a cigarette. Ray’s nose wrinkled at the smell, he’d never liked the smell of people smoking, but Joel did it all the time, so he had started to become accustom to it.

“What did he do?” Ray asked. Joel looked up at him, pausing, letting his cigarette dangle between his lips.

“I thought I told you not to ask questions.”

“I just… you just fucking killed a man, Joel! He could’ve… he could’ve had a family, or he-”

“Ever been to central park?” Joel had walked across the room, behind his desk, looking out of the large window that stood on the back wall, overlooking the city.

“Huh?”

“Central park, ever been?”

“Joel… the body is just fucking lying here… there’s blood on by hoodie- I just… I don’t-”

“All this time in the city, I’ve never actually been. People say it’s pretty cool.”

“ _Joel_.” Ray raised his voice slightly. Joel sighed, turning around and locking eyes with Ray. He took a drag of his cigarette, raising his eyebrow, _daring_ Ray to continue. Ray felt his heart drop into his stomach. “I-You…” he stuttered. “You just killed this guy. Cold blood… was… did he really give you that good of a reason?”

“I don’t need a reason.” Joel stepped forwards. He wasn’t particularly close to Ray, but still, Ray took a step back. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. End of discussion.”

Ray squirmed a little at the dark, unreadable look on Joel’s face. “Joel-”

“Ever been to a drive in movie?” Joel asked, making a full U-Turn on the conversation again, stumping out his cigarette on his desk, even though he had barely smoked it.

“Joel, god-dammit, can you just-”

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Ray froze. Joel walked towards him slowly, as Ray’s eyes blinked wetly, shocked. “W-What…?”

“Ray.” Joel smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I love you.”

Ray melted, unable to fight the smile on his face as Joel came closer, taking his hand and wrapping their fingers together. “I-I don’t know what to say… nobody’s ever-”

“Sh-” Joel rested his forehead against Ray’s, the younger tilting his face up, expecting a kiss. Instead, Joel kept talking. “You don’t have to say anything. I love you. I just wanted you to know.”

Ray’s smile grew into a grin. “I-I love you too.” He replied.

“Good. Now let’s go catch that drive in movie.” Joel leant his face down, pressing a chaste kiss to Ray’s lips before letting go of him, and grabbing his jacket off of the coat hanger by the door.

“B-But the guy-” Ray motioned to the corpse on the floor, as Joel grabbed his keys and made his way to the door.

“I think they're showing Grease, total classic.” Joel ignored him, opening the door and nodding for Ray to walk through. “Did I ever tell you about the time I played Danny Zuko in High School? The girl playing Sandy had braces, and-”

Ray tuned out as Joel continued talking, a tight hold on Ray’s hand as he yanked him through the door, away from the body. The two guys who were standing outside walked in as they left, briefly making eye contact with Joel as they entered.

Joel carried on, pulling Ray beside him as they made their way into the elevator, heading down to the basement where Joel’s car was. Ray stayed silent, unsure if anything he said right then would divert Joel off track. He was excited, and happy, because Joel told him he loved him and was taking him out to the movies and central park. But then something else was making his gut twist. Things were amazing, they were _perfect,_ but they weren’t right. Joel wasn’t right.

But then, maybe Ray wasn’t really right either, he thought, as Joel’s hand squeezed his, before letting go, and opening the car door.

“So,” Ray asked, turning to face Joel and smiling. “Grease?”


	5. Team OG

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Jack and Geoff meet? How did they become partners in crime?
> 
> It starts in a bar on the shady side of a college town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by : SmallTownBigImagination

Geoff sat at the bar alone, nursing his beer. It was a Saturday night, his first Saturday night free in weeks, but none of his fucking friends could be bothered to go out with him. Burnie was busy, ‘studying’, Matt was editing his manuscript and Gus was… well, doing whatever it was Gus did when he wasn’t working.

He sipped at his whiskey, savouring the taste. He’d worked damn hard for that whiskey- getting served alcohol without a fake ID wasn’t exactly easy. Geoff couldn’t wait for his 21st birthday to roll around, in only the next few months.

“Geoff?”

Geoff frowned, turning. Not many people knew him around the college side of town. He didn't go to college, because why the fuck would he waste his life and money doing that, when there were plenty of other ways to make cash? Not that he’d found any of those ways yet… but hey- he was working on it.

The guy who had called his name was sitting beside Geoff at the bar, open laptop in front of him. He was _big_ , in pretty much every way possible- height, weight, _hair_. Seriously, the guy had what looked like the beginning of a full grown beard blossoming around his face, whereas Geoff could barely grow a moustache.

“Do I know you?” Geoff asked. The guy shook his head.

“No, uh- I’m Jack. Jack Pattillo. I’m a… friend of Burnie’s.”

Geoff’s frown only deepened. “A friend of Burnie’s?” he asked. “Burnie aint never mentioned no Jack to me.”

Jack squirmed a little, clearly uncomfortable under Geoff’s questioning gaze. Geoff had that effect on people. “We’re not really friends, I guess. I’m friends with Joel Heyman, he knows Burnie.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I know Joel.” Geoff nodded. “Weird fucker, but I know him, yeah. What’s your point?”

“Burnie says you’re… looking for… _work_.”

Geoff sat up a little stiffly at that. Sure, he’d shared his criminal desires with his friends before, but this guy did not look like your typical gang member. He looked like a damn overstuffed, ginger teddy bear. The guy, Jack Pattillo, probably didn't have a threatening bone in his body.

“You’re offering?” Geoff asked. Jack shrugged.

“Sort of. Burnie said you’re… looking for the same kind of work I’m looking for.”

That made Geoff smile. Okay, so maybe he’d give this Jack Pattillo guy a try. He didn't exactly look like the worlds most hardened criminal, but Geoff didn't exactly have many other options.

Jack was a hacker, mainly. He had computers in his dorm room constantly running code, and he could get his way into most security systems. That was the first thing that impressed Geoff.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Jack asked, as Geoff lit up a cigarette inside the dorm room. He’d barely known Jack for a week, but the two had become fast friends. He nodded.

“My parents could never afford college tuition.” Jack admitted. “They think I’m here on scholarship, which is only half true.”

Geoff frowned, “What are you saying?”

“I hacked into the college’s system an added myself to the scholarship programme. Created a bunch of fake grades and everything.” Jack said with a smile, looking more than proud of himself. Geoff shot him a lazy grin, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I'll give it to you, Jack. That’s smart as shit.”

Geoff and Jack’s little criminal team of two was great, if they didn't actually want to get any crime done, of course. Jack was only really in it because he was broke, and didn't exactly have it in him to rob a store at gunpoint. Geoff _was_ the kind of guy to rob a store at gunpoint. Geoff was in it because he was bored. But with only one guy capable of any leg work, they couldn’t really do much actual criminal activity.

So Jack asked Joel to get involved. Geoff had only met Joel a few times, but there was something about the guy that made him feel uneasy. Too clean shaven, to neat and tidy. Joel was a total neurotic, he soon learned, the slightest thing able to throw him off. He wasn’t good at explaining things, or telling stories without yelling, but he was okay, so Geoff tolerated him.

Their first heist was on a convenience store, just outside of town. They didn't want to do anything too close to home, so they wouldn’t be recognised. Jack sat outside in the car and watched Geoff and Joel burst into the empty store, demanding all the cash in the register. Geoff was wearing a ski mask and Joel was wearing a scarf, wrapped tightly around his face so only his eyes were revealed. Their guns weren’t even real, they were just squirters, but the guy took the bait.

Joel grabbed the money, Geoff grabbed a Hershey’s bar, and they high tailed it out of there before the cops had time to show up.

“I hacked the phone systems to shut down the phone network for a few minutes, everywhere in a mile radius of this store.” Jack said proudly, revving the engine and driving them away. “No cops should be anywhere near us.”

“Jack, you’re fucking _awesome_!” Geoff shouted through a mouth of chocolate, laughing. His blood was burning with the adrenaline from committing a crime, and it was a better feeling than any high he’d ever had. “Isn’t he fucking awesome, Joel?” he grabbed at Jack’s hairy cheek, squeezing it, making Jack laugh loudly. Joel, however, was quiet, only the sound of rustling paper heard from the back of the car.

“Joel?” Geoff turned around.

Joel was sat in the backseat, frantically counting through the money in the bag. His face was twisted into an expression of discontent.

“Joel? You okay man?” Jack asked, eyeing his friend through the wing mirror of the car.

“We only got twelve hundred and eighty one dollars.” Joel stated, quietly.

“What’s wrong with that?” Geoff asked.

“What’s wrong with that?!” Joel yelled. “We did our research, there should’ve been at least fourteen hundred dollars in there!”

“So what, he had a slow day?” Geoff shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?! The big deal is that all the calculations, everything we did, was for _nothing_!” Joel shouted. “What’s the fucking point in robbing a place, if we don’t make enough fucking money for an even three way split?”

The car fell silent, and from that moment, the uneasiness that Geoff felt around Joel multiplied by twelve.

* * *

 

“You know how I was in the army?” Geoff asked Jack, as they sat outside a gas station, ten miles away from the college.

“Yeah?”

“I only did it because I was bored.” Geoff’s head rolled against the headrest, so he could face Jack. Jack frowned.

“What?”

“I ran away from home to join the army when I was eighteen because I got bored.” Geoff repeated.

“Really? No offence, but most people have a better reason than that. Patriotism and shit.” Jack said. Geoff laughed at the absurdity of his statement. Patriotism? Geoff barely gave a shit about himself and Jack, let alone the rest of the country.

“Yeah I know. It was a waste of time, really. We didn't get much done. Liberated a few small countries, nothing special. But at the end of the day, I only went and did it because I was bored.” He shrugged. “I was bored with my life, my parents, my girlfriend. I didn't want to go to college, fuck _that_. But then, when I spent two years holed up in a base, I realised I didn't want to be there either. So I took early leave, and fucked off out of that shit hole.”

“Nothing ever satisfies you.” Jack shook his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Geoff, look at us. I’m a criminal, because I need the money. I gotta help my family out, and take care of myself. You’ve got money, you’ve got qualifications. You’re a veteran, for fucks sake- no matter how quickly you were out of there… you get the benefits! You’re only a criminal because you're _bored_ , and you think it’s _fun_.”

Geoff frowned, sitting back in the car seat. “Maybe you know me too fucking well.” He admitted.

“Damn right I do, and don’t you think I should? We’ve been friends for a year.”

“Yeah, and I’ve only _just_ told you why I joined the army! What does that say about our friendship? Huh?” he joked. Jack smiled.

“Say’s you're more reserved than I am. You’re not quick to trust… but you like me.”

“I like you?”

“Yep.” Jack nodded, proudly. “You fucking like me, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.” He stated. Geoff couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, you got me there. I do like you Jack. You’re a pretty alright guy.” He said, fondly. Jack turned to him, and smiled.

“You’re a pretty alright guy too, Ramsey.”

* * *

 

“We could do this, full time, you know?” Jack said one day, laid back on his dorm room bed. The sheets were completely gone, packed up in a box somewhere. That was what they were supposed to be doing, clearing Jack’s dorm room out, now that he was finished. But instead, Jack had done some packing, and Geoff was sitting in his desk chair, taking hits from a pipe. With Joel around so often, sometimes he needed weed to chill himself out. Joel put him on edge, wound him up like a toy, and Geoff couldn’t stand it.

“Not with Jumpy Heyman around.” Geoff wheezed, coughing the smoke from his lungs. Jack sighed.

“I know he’s a little... different, but-”         

“He’s more than a little fucking different, Jack!” Geoff exclaimed. “You think I don’t want this for us? The money, the heists, all of it! I fucking do, okay, believe me. But we can't with him around. He keeps talking about forming a crew, and I don’t think that’s a bad idea, not at all- but I can’t do it with him around.”

“But Geoff, he’s my friend- he’s been my friend all through college.”

“And college is over.” Geoff pointed out. “You’re a senior, Jack. Graduation is in a few weeks- You’re done- I’ve been saying we should get out of the south-”

“Geoff- you and I both know that Joel will kill us if we just take off.”

“-Like he’d manage.” Geoff scoffed. “Joel Heyman is a fucking psycho, sure, but I’m not afraid of him.” he set his glass pipe down on the table, and stood up. “I’m sorry, Jack, but I can't do it anymore. I’m leaving, next month. If you want to come with me, you’re more than welcome to. Just not if Joel Heyman has anything to do with it.”

“Fine.” Jack sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, defeated. “We leave him. We leave Joel behind, we turn our backs, and we head… where? West?”

“West coast.” Geoff confirmed, nodding. “We get on our feet, maybe even join a crew. Once we’ve got a reputation, we start our own.” He folded his arms, proud of his own shoddy plan. Jack just smiled at him.

“You make it sound so glamourous.” He laughed. Geoff grinned, popping the collar of his shirt.

“Los Santos _is_ glamour, dude! Best fucking city on this _continent_ , you’ll see”

* * *

 

Did Jack feel guilty, as he loaded up his and Geoff’s bags into the back of the car? Did he really feel bad for leaving Austin, leaving Joel behind?

Halfway through the week long drive, Jack decided that he didn’t feel guilty at all.

Because really, what kind of a friend was Joel to him anyway? Joel was crazy, and Geoff was right. He hated admitting it, and would never tell it to his face, but Geoff was fucking right. They’d do much better without him.

 _Geoff Ramsey,_ Jack thought, smiling to himself as he saw the Los Santos sign in the distance, up in the hills of Mount Chilliad. Geoff Ramsey was an asshole, with the mouth of a sailor and some pretty cool tattoos. Geoff Ramsey had turned him into a full time criminal, taken him from his home and convinced him to drive all the way to the West Coast.

It was crazy, he thought, what you’d do for a _friend_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, uploading my trash. I'm proud. Hope this gives at least a glimpse into the level of trust and friendship Geoff and Jack have. Also shows why Joel resents Geoff so much, because he feels as if Geoff stole Jack from him. Jack and Joel were friends first.


	6. Mrs Officer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geoff break into the military base to retrieve some personal files. Private security stops him in his tracks.

Geoff didn't know what all his boys were bitching about. Breaking into the military base had been easy, and he’d fucking done it alone. He had Jack hacking their security, sure, but all the legwork? That’d been _him_. Ryan and Ray didn't even want to touch this job, yet Geoff had done it alone, with a handgun and a few shots of whisky in his system.

But then, maybe he was just that good.

The guard system in the military base wasn’t that tricky to slip through, and with their technical security down, Geoff could easily slip into the main area where the files were kept. Most were stored electronically now, but Geoff knew that his file was a special case. And he fucking wanted it back, because every time he tried to disappear, he knew the government had one fucking thing still hanging over him.

Jack had mentioned something about a private security guard inside, but so far, Geoff hadn’t seen anyone. He searched for the vault that Jack had directed him too, and worked on cracking it. Unsurprisingly, it was easy to break into using Lindsay’s tech, and the door was swung open within minutes.

As he went to step in, Geoff heard a noise. It was quiet, but years of deep-seated paranoia and shady deals had tuned his ear plenty fine to watch his own back. He turned, because honestly, it had sounded like a step or a jump, but he found the room to be completely empty. Geoff shrugged, but still looked around curiously as he backed into the vault. Things were a little shifty around here, so he was just looking to get his file and get out, ASAP.

As his hand reached for the first filing cabinet, a familiar voice said-

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Geoff’s heart leapt from his chest into his throat. He knew that voice- fuck, that voice had been haunting his dreams for so long- it almost didn't sound real anymore. For a second, Geoff wondered if the years of drinking really had taken their toll like Jack had been warning him, and he was losing his mind.

Geoff turned around, and she smiled, standing in the doorway of the vault.

“Private security.” Griffon pointed at the badge, sewn onto the bullet proof vest she was wearing. Her hands were lazily gripping a gun, but Geoff knew not to underestimate her. She’d shoot him square in the chest if he stepped out of line.

“Griffon.” He breathed.

“Laser grid in here. You take about four more steps and the alarms go off. Then, I sort of _have_ to shoot you.”

“Griffon… I- what are you doing here?”

Griffon shrugged. “Jobs a job.” She said. “You’re trespassing. Legally, I can kill you and have you buried in an unmarked grave.” A small smile played on her lips, and Geoff felt his chest tighten. He knew that smile, he’d _missed_ that smile- so much.

“How is-”

“Safe, that’s all you need to know. The less you know, the safer she’ll be.”

Geoff nodded. “Okay, okay. I just… really, you- working for the good guys?”

“Being a Kingpin’s wife got old, quickly.” She said. Her smile had faded then, and Geoff couldn’t help but feel like he was responsible. “I got the job from some guy called Heyman.”

Geoff frowned at that. “Joel Heyman?” he asked. Griffon nodded.

“He’s dead.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe. I haven’t heard anything from him in a while. Still, why should I believe a word you say?”

“Never lied to you before, have I?”

She smirked. “Don’t give me that, Geoff. Maybe that bullshit kept me around for ten years, it doesn’t work anymore.”

“I’m-”

“-Sorry, yeah, I know. I know you’re sorry, and I know you miss us but… I can’t, okay. I just can't.”

Geoff nodded, sadly. “I know.” He said. “The further away from me you are, the safer you’ll both be.”

“Exactly. Now what are you doing here?”

“Looking for my file.”

“It’s gone.” Griffon said. Geoff frowned.

“Gone where?”

She almost smiled then, looking proud of herself. “I took care of it.”

Geoff couldn’t help but smile at that, tears still brimming in his eyes. Hers looked glazed over too, but she’d never admit it. She was stubborn like that, and she hated it when people saw her cry.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he asked. Griffon looked away from him, to the floor.

“A thousand times.”

“And I'll tell you a thousand more.” Geoff said. “I know that you don’t love me, but-”

“Who said I didn't love you?”

Geoff froze. She didn't… but then- did she? Griffon was standing with her hands still locked around her gun, her gaze targeted anywhere but his. The tears that were brimming in her eyes threatened to spill, but she sniffed them back, refusing to give in.

“Griffon-”

“-Goodbye, Geoff.” She shook her head. “Close the vault on your way out. I never saw you here, right?”

Geoff nodded, unable to say anything else. He wanted nothing more than to follow her out of the vault, grab her, pull her into him. Take every hardship he’d caused her and erase them, but he couldn’t. They could never be a family again, and that was his fault. He’d forced her into his twisted world, an empire built on his own boredom. She’d taken every bit of darkness inside him, and turned it into sunshine, but it still wasn’t enough. She had more than herself to look out for, and their safety meant more to Geoff than anything else in the world.

* * *

 

“What’s up with him?” Gavin asked Jack quietly, eyeing Geoff, who was sitting at the dining table. His head was rested in one of his hands, the other clutched around a glass of whiskey. Geoff didn't usually drink at eleven AM, and when he did, he didn't usually look so sad doing it. Jack shook his head, and shrugged.

“I don’t know. He came back yesterday without his file, and without a word to say about it. He’s been like that ever since.”

“Weird. You don’t think anything bad happened?” Gavin asked. Jack shrugged again.

“I don’t know. He won't talk to me, which is odd. But you know what Geoff’s like… he likes to pretend he can't get hurt. Like he’s fucking invincible, when he’s not.”

“Yep.” Gavin nodded. “He’s too stubborn for his own good; but maybe he’ll come around soon. Michael’s finally been cleared off his anti-depressants, by that doctor Lindsay referred him to, so that should cheer him up.”

“Yeah.” Jack agreed. “Hopefully, it will.”

Gavin walked away, easily distracted by something else going on in the house, leaving Jack alone, standing by the kitchen isle. His eyes never left Geoff, and he took a sip of his coffee.

“Stop staring at me like I’m made of fucking glass.” Geoff snapped, tapping his now empty glass on the table. He didn't look over, but Jack knew he was snapping at him.

“Fine.” Jack held a hand up defensively. “But when you do wanna talk about it-”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“-Whatever it is…I'll be here to listen.”

Jack left the room before he could hear Geoff whisper, “You always are.”


	7. Break My Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What really happened in the tunnels? What happened before that?
> 
> OnlyTheBestOfInentions asked for Raywood pre GNR, and further insight into the whole, "you know how I feel about you." line. Ryan could never say it, after all.

Ray sat at the breakfast table, teeth grating and spoon clenched in his hand. He hadn’t touched his cereal in minutes, and it was slowly turning soggy, slipping under the milk. But then, he didn't feel very hungry on that particular day.

Ryan sat opposite him. He wasn’t eating either, but that wasn’t new. Ryan went through fazes of eating and not eating, and Ray was usually the one who’d remind him he couldn’t run on adrenaline alone. Ryan would laugh, and admit that he’d sometimes just forget to take care of himself. He’d thank Ray, ruffling his hair or grinning at him. Ryan was nice like that, and Ray loved the way his eyes crinkled as he smiled.

He couldn’t really see Ryan’s eyes all that well that particular morning. The gent had his mask on, and most likely his face paint on underneath. That meant that Ryan didn't want to talk, not to anyone, so the other crew members were giving him a pretty wide berth. Ray was usually the only one who’d be able coax him out of the mask when he was acting closed off, but this time, he was sitting opposite him with a stony expression, staring him down.

Ray could barely make out Ryan’s eyes through the dark face-paint that surrounded them, but he knew how to find them, and he knew that Ryan was looking at him. The other crew members had left the room pretty sharpish once they noticed the stare off. Ray and Ryan were usually inseparable, so their hostility towards each other made it very clear that something was off, and it would probably be better (and safer) for them all to stay out of it.

Hopefully, they’d fight and get it out of their system, and everything would be fine.

Ray refused to break stare, and he knew Ryan was starting to sweat. Ryan was a pretty tough guy, but Ray had nerves of steel. It came with experience, from being able to pull a trigger on someone he didn't know from forty stories away.

As he expected, Ryan broke first, head dipping. Under normal circumstances, Ray would’ve smirked at the shallow victory, but instead, he felt sick. Ryan had given up. Ryan didn't want anything to do with him.

“Fuck you.” Ray said quietly, wanting to sound angry but really sounding more…disheartened.  He stood up, pushing his cereal away from himself and marched out of the kitchen. Ryan looked up as he heard Ray’s feet hitting the stairs, and swore under his breath. He took the bowl of cereal, lifted his mask enough to reveal his painted mouth, and began to eat.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Ray wanted to cry, honestly. And that was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in _years_ , but fuck it- he was going. Tears were spilling from his eyes, and his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t even roll himself a joint. He gave up quickly, tossing the weed across the room. He could always get more, and it wasn’t important, because he was sitting in his room _crying_ over a boy, like a fucking teenage girl.

Could he help it if he'd fallen for Ryan? Under the mask and the face paint, he was a handsome, charming _nerd_. He had the _cutest_ southern accent, and eyes that sparkled when he spoke about something he was interested in. he liked computers and video games. He studied animation and theatre in college… he was fucking _incredible_.

He was a _criminal_ , a self-proclaimed _psychopath_ , and Ray fucking loved him, with everything he had. He didn't know how, but he knew that Ryan knew. From the events a few nights ago, he _must’ve_ known. He’d watched Ray, sitting on Ryan’s bed, legs crossed, smile mischievous. He'd walked over, teasing Ray about whatever it was, he couldn’t remember. All he could remember was Ryan’s _voice_ , low and so close to his ear, Ryan’s _smell_ , so strong and familiar. Ryan’s hand felt so hot when it was on his wrist, and the two wrestled playfully. Then, Ray was sat straddling Ryan’s hips, and their laughter had died down, and _then_ they were silent.

“Ryan.” Ray had said. “You and me… we’re… we’re good, right?” he’d asked. Ryan had smiled.

“R&R connection- of course we’re aright. Why do you ask?”

Ray shrugged. “I-I dunno… I just… if you liked me… as more than a friend- you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Ryan had frozen under him. Ray couldn’t remember the conversation exactly, but there was a lot in there about Ryan not looking for a romantic attraction. He wasn’t focused on that, it wasn’t his intentions with Ray or anyone. He had things that were more important to him than a relationship.

He’d stamped all over Ray’s dreams whilst holding him at the waist and smiling, like they were the best of friends and everything was normal. When Ray left the room, clearly upset, Ryan couldn’t understand why. When he texted Ray in the middle of the night, the only reply he received was _leave me alone._

He and Ryan hadn’t spoken for a few days, and then, there they were- Ryan at breakfast with his mask on, Ray upstairs, crying because the guy he liked didn't fucking like him back.

It was odd, because all the signs were there. Ryan listened to him, always so intently. He was always finding an excuse to touch Ray, leaning against him on the couch when they watched TV, nudging him playfully when they gamed. They play-fought, they flirted, their back and forth was unmatchable, even Michael and Gavin couldn’t compare. The other crew members teased that they acted like a couple, and Ryan would always grin at him as they did.

But he’d made it clear now, that all of that wasn’t true. Maybe Ray had been over analysing the whole time. Maybe Ryan wasn’t the one touching him, it was the other way around. Maybe, when Ryan looked into his boring brown eyes, he didn't see the same sparks Ray saw in his icy blue ones.

Ray sniffed, wiping the tears from his cheek furiously. _Fuck Ryan_ , he thought. He didn’t like him? Fine, Ray would fucking get over it. He was done trying, done being pulled into a relationship that wasn’t real. He had friends, he had Michael and Gavin. He had Geoff and Jack.

He didn't need Ryan.

* * *

 

Ray didn't speak to Ryan after that. Ryan kept his mask on at the dinner table too. And when the big heist rolled around, the one they’d been planning for so long, Geoff paired them up. They worked well together, they always had done, but this time- it was different.

Ryan was _different_.

Before they started, Ray had approached him. He’d said, fuck it- even if they weren’t talking and Ryan hated him, they had to suck it up and get on for the sake of the heist. After that job, they could go their separate ways. They’d never have to work together again, if Ryan didn't want them to.

Ryan had vaguely nodded, but it felt like he wasn’t really listening. Ray just frowned, muttered _fuck_ _you_ under his breath, and got on with what they had to do. By the time it came around to their grand escape, they were jogging through the tunnels together, guns bouncing on their backs. It was tense, because neither spoke a word.

Then Ryan started to slow down. He ripped his earpiece out of his ear, throwing it on the ground. Ray could hear Geoff shouting in his, asking for their status and what was going on. He didn't answer, instead turning to look at Ryan, who’d stopped completely in his tracks.

Ryan made a vague motion to his ear, signalling Ray to remove his ear piece. And Ray did, because he trusted Ryan. When it came to work, he always did what Ryan told him to do.

“What’s going on?” Ray asked.

“I-I just wanted to tell you something. I didn't want the others to hear.” He said. Ray frowned, saying nothing. Ryan took in a deep breath, before tearing his mask off. Ray hadn’t noticed before that he wasn’t wearing any face paint.

“Well, what is it?” Ray asked. Ryan finally turned to face him, looking him straight in the eye.

“The other day. You asked me if I liked you… would I tell you… and- and I just wanted to tell you, now… now that I know for sure…”

Ray stepped forwards as Ryan spoke, so desperate to hear the end of his sentence. Ryan had never been good at expressing himself with words, but Ray could see the emotion in his eyes. He knew when Ryan was faking it, and this _wasn’t_ one of those times. This was genuine.

“I do… Ray- really, I- but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ryan looked away then, shaking his head and staring at the ground. Ray reached forwards, to touch him, but Ryan only stepped backwards. Ray drew his hand back to his side.

“You can tell me, Ryan.” He said. “You can tell me anything, right?”

“I can’t.” Ryan shook his head again. “feeling that- for you… I can’t do it. Not in this line of work, I won't let myself, no matter how hard it is…”

“Who cares?”

“I care.” Ryan said. “And I’m sorry… Ray- I’m really sorry.” Ray watched as Ryan reached behind his back, holding onto his gun. If he was a little more inexperienced, his heartbeat would’ve rocketed. But Ray was a professional, and even in his darkest moments, he was prepared.

“Ryan what’re you doing?”

“-But there doesn’t have to be two of us…”

“Don’t you fucking do it-”

And that was how Ray found himself standing in a tunnel under the city, gun shaking in his hands, Ryan’s body laid out before him, bleeding.

Ray wanted so desperately to kneel down, to help Ryan. Call an ambulance, call anyone, but he didn't. He scrambled for his earpiece, but he couldn’t hear Jack or Geoff from it anymore. He tossed the earpiece into a nearby puddle, and with one last look at the man he thought he loved, Ray turned, and _ran._


	8. Anger Outlets (Ray/Ryan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set before GNR2, when Ryan and Ray were still separated from the crew. Ray has his own ways of letting out his anger, and Ryan hates it.

“You’ve been fighting.” Ryan’s eyes glance over him briefly yet intently the moment he steps through the front door. Ray doesn’t do much in acknowledgment of his statement, just shrugs and makes a quiet hum, keeping his eyes low and to the ground. He’d never noticed that dark spot on the floor before. Fascinating.

Ryan folds his arms, awkwardly standing by the couch like a disappointed parent, waiting for their kid to walk in an hour past curfew but Ray does him best to ignore it, pulling off his beanie his beanie and tossing it aside on the kitchen isle before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off to the floor. He hears Ryan take a small intake of breath, sharp enough for him to hear but only for a second. Only then does Ray muster up the courage to look over, making eye contact with Ryan for the first time.

He is met with a sad shake of Ryan’s pretty head, before he steps forwards to take Ray’s bloodied hand in his and pull him into the bathroom.

Ryan strips his bloody T-Shirt off and begins his work at the cuts across his torso and belly with the first aid kit that they keep having to replace more and more often. This is for few reasons involving the fact that they’re criminals and risk their lives on a daily basis. The main reason it that Ray gets bored and when Ray gets bored, he fights- simple. They’ve been away from the crew for a while, and although they do loosely keep in touch, it isn’t the same as seeing their four best friends every single day. When Ray gets bored he gets annoyed and when he gets annoyed, he fights.

As Ryan applies antibacterial to the deeper cuts on his chest, he lets a hiss escape his mouth, breaking his main rule when it comes to fighting. Never let the enemy know you’re wounded. Ryan tuts at him, and Ray glares at him from his sunken eyes. One’s heavily swollen, his glasses folded neatly aside on the white sink. How Ray always keeps them completely intact after what looks to be several well aimed punches to the face, Ryan will never know.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this, you know.” Ryan says, dabbing softly at the dried blood on Ray’s face. Ray winces as the cotton brushes the dark bruise under his eye. “I know.” He replies.

“You won’t though, will you?” Ryan asks with a smirk. Ray can move just about his face comfortably enough to smile, and so he does- and fresh blood leaks from the slash at his cheek. “No way.” He says with a short, quiet laugh. Ryan stops mopping him up once he catches the fresh streak, and leans back to look at his whole face.

“Nothing too bad.” He comments. He tilts Ray’s head with his fingers cupped at his chin. “This might take a little while to heal though.” He wipes at then gash along Ray’s jawline. “Whoever he was- he got you good, huh?”

“Yeah, she got me tonight.” Ray correct him with a smug glint in his eye. “I wasn’t expecting the knife.”

“That’s why I don’t like you going to these underground fighting rings. There aren’t any rules, and shit like this happens. You’ll scar, for sure.” Ryan tuts again, stroking the tender skin with the skin of his thumb. Ray rolls his eyes.

“I like to play dirty too, you know that.” He points out. Ryan sighs, but nods.

“Yeah. I do. Doesn’t mean I like it, though.”

It’s Ray’s turn to sigh then as he sits, perched on the edge of the bathtub with Ryan knelt in front of him. He leans forwards, and hugs Ryan tightly.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “But you have your outlet. I’ve got mine.”

“I know.” Ryan nods against his shoulder. “As long as we always come back to each other. That’s all the matters to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *singing* this verse isn't dead this verse isn't dead


	9. Did You Mean It? (Joel/Ray)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray has to leave, and he knows it.

“When you said you loved me, did you mean it?” Ray asks.

Joel glances over at him briefly, before turning his eyes back to the road. His grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles whitening. They’ve been driving for days, Ray isn’t even sure where they’re going anymore. Only that Joel’s got business to take care of. Joel’s always got business to take care of, and he doesn’t trust Ray on his own enough to leave him behind.

“What brought that on?” Joel asks. Ray doesn’t turn his gaze from the road.

“Just answer the question.” He says. “That day, when you took me to central park and you drove for two hours just so we could see a drive in movie… you said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it.”

They are silent for another few minutes. Ray can feel the tears brimming in his eyes already, but he refuses to let them fall. Joel must sense something wrong too, because his grip on the steering wheel loosens, and he keeps glancing at Ray out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s wrong?”

Ray sniffs. “I wanna go home, Joel.”

“We’ll only be in Dallas for a few days Ray-”

“No, I want to go _home_.” Ray repeats. Joel swallows.

“Oh.”

“I wanna go back to New York.” Ray continues. Joel looks at him. “I want out.” Ray can barely form the last statement, his words becoming whispers because of the tears clogged in his throat. Joel doesn’t say anything, he just slows the car down, and pulls over by the side of the road. They aren’t in the middle of nowhere, and there’s a train station within eye view.

“What? You’re not gonna try and stop me?” Ray asks, as Joel puts the car into park and kills the engine. Joel smiles softly, eyes dark and playful.

“Like I've ever been able to make you do something you don’t wanna do.” he says, almost wistfully. “If you wanna leave… if you really want out, then go. But don’t you ever even think, for a second that I do not love you just the same as I did back when I first told you I did, because I do. I love you, kid.”

“Joel-”

“So take this.” Joel leans over, opening the glovebox. He pulls out an envelope, his emergency cash that he always keeps around because he’s a paranoid bastard. Inside the envelope he thrusts into Ray’s hands, is also a plane ticket- Ray’s seen it and held it and drooled over it enough time with shallow thoughts of running from Joel’s arms and onto a plane. It’s one of those, anywhere in the country, one-way trip kind of deals. No looking back- not even for a second.

“And go wherever you fucking want to.” Joel continues with a sigh. “Head West Coast maybe, there’s plenty of opportunities down there for a bright kid like you, or maybe go back to New York- I hear business is _booming_ even though I left, and-”

“ _Joel.”_

 _“_ -and just _go_ … please?” Joel looks up at him. Joel doesn’t cry very often, but Ray knows the look. He can see it, behind his eyes. He wants to, but he’s fighting it, and that just breaks Ray’s heart even more. “Before I change my mind?” he adds, smiling.

“Thank you, Joel- for everything.”

“Don’t thank me, kid.” Joel doesn’t look at him, just up at his rear-view mirror and then out onto the open road as Ray slips out of the car. “We’ll see each other again. I’ll make sure of it.”

Joel speeds off before Ray can reply. The promise makes him feel uneasy- Joel has always been a pretty unpredictable kind of guy, and he never ever keeps his promises. So what would make this one any different?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave prompts in the comments or at my tumblr (papersk1n.tumblr.com but please specify gnrprompt) for whatever else you'd want to see!


	10. A Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set pre GNR1, pre the heist that fucked everything. Ray takes a walk out in Los Santos for fresh air and spots a familiar face.

Ray had been feeling a little on edge for the past few days, and a nice walk through the city was doing him more than a world of good. it was nice, not to be cooped up in his smoke-heavy room. Things were awkward for him, back at the crew house. Ryan wasn’t speaking to him still, but that wasn’t new. Michael and Gavin were fighting, because Gavin had been seeing some new girl and Michael had been doing everything in his power to pretend not to be upset about it. How the two acted like they weren’t head over heels for each other, he’d never know.

Ray walked along the street, more-happy than ever to be the sniper of the group. He was rarely seen like the others, on the news behind their colourful masks. Everyone knew Ryan in the city, and Geoff, so it was hard for them to go about unnoticed, but Ray? Blending in was what he was fucking born to do.

Ray turned down a few streets, his feet taking him towards the police station. It was a silent fuck you to the LSPD- a _look at me_ , _walking right across your building and you can't do shit about it_. Being so exposed to danger always gave him a rush, like the feeling in your stomach when you strapped in on a rollercoaster. Adrenaline, even though he knew nothing bad could happen.

He hung around the police station for a while, but he didn't feel as relaxed as he usually did. Quickly, Ray decided that someone was for sure watching him. There were eyes out there in the streets, burning heat into his back, and he could _feel_ them. Had he been recognised? It’d be a first, for sure, but he wasn’t worried. Why would _BROWNMAN_ ever need to be worried?

Ray swivelled, scanning the area for eyes until eventually his gaze fell onto a police car. There was an officer dressed in full uniform, standing leant carefully against the door, watching him behind mirrored sunglasses. But they didn’t do much. Gavin had been trying he whole sunglasses-hide-my-identity shit for years, and it had never worked for him either. As Ray stared at the officer, he recognised every part of him. Sharp jawline, dark hair, strong hands- his heart stuttered, skipped a beat- because he _knew that officer_. But no- it couldn’t be? What would he be _doing_ in Los Santos? How could he have found him, all the way out there?

Ray looked back over to the cop. He was gone, but Ray was sure it had been him… hadn’t it? Maybe he _was_ seeing things, because why the fuck would _Joel Heyman_ have disappeared into thin air after spotting him. if anything, Joel would’ve at least approached him- lurking silently wasn’t exactly his style. Joel liked a show, a façade with confetti and guns and blood on the sidewalk. Joel had let him walk out of his life but he’d always promised to come back. When he did so- Ray would certainly have noticed.

It had to have been someone else, Ray decided. He was probably still high from smoking that morning, and the paranoia was just a simple side effect. He needed to get back home, and shake that weird feeling out of his gut. It was simply a weird coincidence, and nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: are you still interested in this verse? Do you want to see more exploration of relationships like Michael/Lindsay, Ray/Joel, Jack/Geoff(friendship) etc etc or more of the main pairings (Ryan/Ray, Michael/Gavin)?


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